


touch starved

by a_fuck_it_kind_of_lifestyle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Disaster Dean Winchester, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_fuck_it_kind_of_lifestyle/pseuds/a_fuck_it_kind_of_lifestyle
Summary: Dean is a tactile person, it's just in his nature. But his job doesn't afford him many opportunities to be touched in a way that's not 'I'm about to torture you to death and enjoy it,' and one night stands just don't always cut it. So... it's not his fault that first night, really. Everything after that point? Yeah, totally his fault. But he's always been an impulsive bastard, and Cas has always been a weak spot.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 257





	1. that first night

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this on impulse from quarantine loneliness, and it just kept going after that. It's got no plot, just Dean and Cas. Lots of smut, lots of casual fluff, some jokes in between.

Dean will never, ever admit it, but he likes to be touched. Okay, he will admit that, but only as a joke that’s accompanied a wink and a nudge. It’s one of the reasons he needs a one night stand every now and again; sex, yes, but also, the feeling of being touched all over with gentleness and care. Unfortunately, his job doesn’t always afford him even enough time to slip away for the night and take care of business. Sex, he can take care of himself well enough. But sometimes, he goes for way too long without being touched.

It’s one of those times. It’s been so long, so long since anybody touched Dean for more than a second, and it almost aches. Hell, he was almost leaning into a demon’s creepy-ass hand on his cheek earlier in the week. He’s sprawled out on the couch watching a horror flick he’s seen a thousand times when Cas appears in the doorway. 

Dean wouldn’t have noticed except for the sound of his wings; he throws a hand up in greeting. “Sup, feathers.”

“Hello Dean.” Cas replies. He hesitates when he sees that Dean’s taken up all the seating and apparently has no intention of moving. Then he shrugs, lifts up Dean’s legs, and sits on the couch, replacing Dean’s legs on his lap. Dean looks at Cas, a little tingle going down his legs. 

“Whatcha doing here, Cas?” 

Cas rests his arms on Dean’s legs and looks at him with a smile. “I was hoping to join you for a ‘night in.’ If you’d not rather be alone, that is.”

“Oh no, no, by all means, feathers.” Dean hopes he didn’t say that too quickly, but Cas doesn’t seem to mind because he’s busy smoothing out Dean’s sweatpants against his leg. Cas is just about the only person that touches Dean, except for Sam’s occasional pats or hugs. But Cas’s touches are more intentional, more measured. Dean scoots his butt a little further down so his feet are off Cas’s lap and it’s more his knees that are under Cas’s hands. Cas looks at him curiously and Dean shrugs. “Don’t wanna smell my feet, believe me, man.” 

Cas makes a face. “I’m an angel, Dean, I think my sense of smell might be a little more sophisticated than yours.”

Dean laughs. “Are you saying that you like the smell of my feet, Cas?” Cas grabs one of Dean’s feet and brings it up to his nose, sniffing. It tickles. Dean grins and pulls his foot away. The bottom of his feet are so ticklish Sam used to use it as leverage to get the last piece of pizza as kids. Like a good brother, he’s kept that secret to the grave. A few times. 

Cas misinterprets Dean pulling away. “Would you rather I sit elsewhere?” he asks, concerned. He’s unsure about the social etiquette, but Dean is usually very protective of his space, be it mental or physical. Dean squeezes his feet in around Cas immediately to keep him where he is. 

“No! Nah, you’re okay.” Cas notices the action and smiles, pleased. Dean wants him here. He also seems to go incredibly still whenever he touches him, which, given it does not seem as though Dean wants him to stop, Cas concludes it means that Dean would like him to continue. Dean goes back to watching the movie, though half of his attention is taken up by the feeling of Cas’s soft fingers drawing little swirls on his sweatpants. Occasionally his fingers get down to his ankle under the cuff of his pants, and Dean really hopes he doesn’t get as many goosebumps on his ankles as he can feel on his arms every time he does it. He reluctantly decides that he has to say something when Cas’s fingers start tracing the designs on his thighs too. “Cas, what are you doing man?” he asks softly.

Castiel is already watching him when he looks over. “Nothing.” 

Dean chuckles. “What’s with all the sigils, then?” He really doesn’t want Cas to stop, but it feels weird to just let him keep doing it.

“It seems to soothe you.” Cas is still running his fingers over his legs slowly. Dean licks his lips and frowns. “Does it not? Soothe you?”

All of a sudden Dean feels really small all laid up on Cas. “I mean… it’s kinda nice, yeah.” he says shyly. He immediately feels better because Cas smiles at him like he’s so proud that he did something nice. He feels his cheeks flush a little bit and hopes Cas doesn’t see in the dim lighting. 

Cas does see and frankly, he’s enjoying this too much. He likes touching Dean like this, it feels soothing to him too. He can almost see Dean relaxing under his touch. “Good. Would it be preferable if I sat more near your head than your feet?” He watches Dean consider, and he recognizes the hesitant want in his eyes. “Turn around.” He pats Dean’s leg happily.

Dean stalls. “I… Cas, you don’t need to…”

“I insist.” he smiles. “It’s pleasant for me too.”

Dean nods okay slowly. He’s kind of nervous at what he’ll do when Cas starts to touch his hair. He’s used to people only really putting hands through his hair during sex, and he’s not exactly quiet during that. But as long as he doesn’t do anything weird, it won’t be weird. It’s just a little touching during a movie, everybody wants that. He sits himself up and flips his feet down to the other end of the couch. Cas has to put a hand on his chest and ease him down to lay on Cas’s lap. “Would you just relax, Dean.” Cas admonishes, and Dean laughs. 

“That’s not really my forte, Cas.” Looking up at Cas from this angle makes him feel uncomfortably comfortable and weirdly looked after. It feels nice. Cas puts a hand in his hair gently. 

“Well, you should really do it more often. It’s very important.” Cas is speaking really softly and Dean hasn’t looked at the TV in minutes and he has to focus to keep his eyes open to look at Cas, which is really embarrassing.

“Yeah right, you’re an expert at relaxing now, robocop?” He grins mopily up at Cas, happy with himself for coming up with some sass while Cas is scratching his scalp like he’s a dog. Cas rolls his eyes in response. Being with Dean is his relaxation, but he would never tell him that. He has a feeling it would make Dean uncomfortable. Right now, he’s never seen Dean this comfortable. He leans into Cas’s hand when he looks up at him. “Talk to me, Cas.”

“What about, Dean?” 

Cas picks a piece of fuzz off of Dean’s collar, which is just so nice that Dean feels like a normal person for a second. “I don’t know, something weird and dorky like you usually do.” 

Cas thinks for a moment, his hands stilling on Dean’s head and chest. Dean would be disappointed but he likes looking at Cas’s thinking face too, when it isn’t trying to think of a way to, you know, save the world. “Did you know that human infants can die if they don’t receive enough human touch?” Dean shakes his head, which prompts Cas to start running his hands through his hair again. He watches Dean’s eyes flutter shut with a sense of accomplishment. “It’s a very important exercise, almost as essential as sleep or food.”

“Bullshit.” Even as he says it, Dean kinda agrees. Cas doesn’t reply, just uses his free hand to squeeze at Dean’s shoulders, which earns a little happy noise from Dean, so Cas moves his hand down to drift along his chest. He slides his hand over Dean’s collarbone and moves down to walk his fingers along Dean’s ribs. He walks them all the way down to the sliver of skin that’s exposed where his t-shirt is riding up. A shiver runs down Dean’s spine at the contact and he feels a twinge in a place that makes his breath catch. “Cas, what’re you… what’re you doing?”

He opens his eyes to see Cas looking at him, confused. His hand seems to work of its own volition, because it keeps moving around and stops to run a finger over Dean’s hip bone. 

“Cas.” Dean hates the way his voice sounds hoarse, because he’s pretty sure it’s from the combination of Cas’s hands in his hair and so far down.

“What’s wrong?” Cas almost sounds hurt, but he stops moving. He thought he was doing a good act, bringing Dean peace. Dean blinks a few times.

“That’s not how…” what exactly the hell was he trying to say and how was he supposed to say it? Cas’s eyebrows furrow in concern, waiting to learn what he did wrong. “Friends aren’t supposed to touch each other like that.” His face is heating up, he knows it.

“But you said it was fine before.” 

“Yeah, no, I mean, it was. Just, where you…” Dean’s voice kinda gives out, and Cas completely removes his hands. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was overstepping. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” In fact, it is the opposite of what he had been trying to do. Cas doesn’t really see the difference between touching Dean’s legs and touching his hip, but if Dean sees one, that is all that matters.

Dean shakes his head and suddenly feels really silly laying on Cas’s lap. More than that, he feels skeevy. Like Cas was just trying to do a nice thing for Dean’s fucked up loneliness and Dean had accidentally turned it into something dirty. He tries to sit up but Cas holds out a steady hand to stop him. “Cas-”

“It’s okay, we can just go back to what we were doing before.” Cas doesn’t want his momentary lapse in politeness to ruin the nice evening they were having. 

“It didn’t feel bad, it’s just…”

“Did it feel pleasant?”

“...yeah.” 

Cas nods. “Then why don’t you want…?” 

He puts his hand back over Dean’s skin, just barely touching it. Dean swallows and grabs his wrist. “It feels too good.” He says firmly, making eye contact with Cas to try to make sure he gets it. 

“Oh.” 

Dean lets go of Cas’s wrist and turns his head away, back toward the TV. Cas hesitates for a moment then puts his hand back on Dean’s hip bone. He watches Dean closely, and he seems to freeze, but he doesn’t move. He moves his hand up, lightly, dragging up Dean’s t-shirt with it. This time he feels Dean’s intake of breath under his fingers. He snakes his hand all the way under Dean’s shirt, trying to keep his hands soft, barely touching his skin. 

“Put your hand back in my hair.” Dean says it so quietly at first Cas thinks he imagines it. Then Dean turns his head back to look at Cas steadily. “Put your hand back in my hair.” Cas does it, enjoys seeing the peace wash back over his face. His other hand is trying to map out every inch of skin on Dean’s chest, and the almost methodical way his hands move just makes the shivers going down Dean’s spine even stronger. Cas starts to rub along Dean’s hip bone again, keeping an eye on Dean as he goes. He’s interested, interested to see what kind of touches make Dean feel this way. 

Dean is not sure what he’s doing, all he knows is that he wants Cas to keep touching him and that laying in his lap feels more secure than he’s felt in a long time. Cas is looking at him and he knows he wants instruction, but Dean’s thinking is kind of fuzzy right now. Cas’s fingers are slipping under his waistband every time he slides down his hip. “I want… I want you to touch me. But not like touch me touch me… just like this.” That made no sense. He laughs and Cas laughs with him and it makes Dean’s chest fill up with warmth. “Um, here, just,” He puts his hand over Cas’s and guides it under his waistband, smiling when he hears Cas’s breath falter. “Touch me like you did on my stomach, just touch me like that.” he explains softly. Cas starts to, he moves his hand in swirls and exploring touches and mapping out Dean’s thighs and balls and running a feather-light finger up Dean’s cock to his head. Dean’s hips twitch involuntarily and his head tilts back and pulls Cas’s grip tight on his hair, and then he makes a high pitched whine that Cas didn’t know he could make. He keeps moving, keeps roaming and mapping out every divet and muscle and hair, trying to find all the places that make Dean bite his lip. 

Cas keeps going, but the longer he goes the more Dean looks like he’s in pain. He’s watched porn, he knows more than he once did, but he’s still unsure of a lot when it comes to sex. “Dean, do you want me to…” Cas loops his fingers around Dean’s cock and looks at him until Dean looks back up at him. 

“Mm, no.” he takes a few deep breaths, but he’s still twitching and squirming. 

“You look like you’re being tortured, Dean.” 

Dean grins. “Best kind of torture.” Cas pulls his hand slowly up and off Dean’s cock. Dean lets out a short breath. “Jesus, Cas,” Cas smiles, pretty sure that’s a good sign. He follows Dean’s directions though, keeps lazily exploring and barely touching in all the places he’s noticed Dean reacts to more. He tries to soothe him by smoothing his hair away from his face. As he keeps going, tears pool in Dean’s eyes and fall down his cheeks and Cas wipes them away and a thought occurs. He runs his finger up Dean’s neck and Dean moves his chin up to make it easier. He puts his thumb over Dean’s mouth and Dean puts his lips around it, staring at Cas. Cas isn’t quite sure what he’s doing but he watches as Dean sucks and it rattles him. Dean obviously sees it on his face, because when he lets go he’s got on a self-satisfied grin. “Finally cracked you, huh?” 

Cas’s face heats up. Dean is getting far too in control of his faculties if he’s making jokes at his expense. He slides his hand between Dean’s thighs and puts a little pressure where it’s softest. Dean jerks up with a soft grunt, eyes wide. “Cas, what the- do that… again?” He laughs shakily and Cas grins back. He does it again, this time Dean leans into it, and he moves his fingers in circles. Dean makes some truly inhuman noises mixed in with Cas’s name because, god, he did not know he could feel like that. “Okay, okay, touch me now, right now, please,” 

Cas obeys happily, doing it exactly like he saw in the porn he’d watched. But he watches Dean the whole time, because he’s sweating and straining and beautiful and in his lap, and that makes Castiel feel something. And Dean’s holding onto Cas’s arm like his life depends on it, until he seizes up altogether and then releases. “Fuck.” he breathes heavy and slow. “Fuck.” Cas rests a hand on his chest and Dean grabs onto it, holding it out in front of his face. “This hand, this hand is now God.”

Cas smiles. “My hand is not God, Dean.”

“You don’t decide that.” Dean answers seriously. Cas decides to let it pass; Dean is obviously proud of that joke, and he’s cute when he’s proud. “Seriously Cas, um, wow, where’d you learn all that magic hands shit?” He reaches over and grabs a popcorn stained paper towel, uses it to clean up. You use what you got.

Cas shrugs. “My hands have never had that effect on anyone before. As for the rest, I’m well acquainted with human physiology.”

Dean quiets, somewhat offended, and definitely embarrassed that just Cas’s hands are the hottest things he’s ever felt on his body. “I know about physiology too, it’s just like tickling yourself…” he mutters bitterly. Cas shakes his head and scratches behind Dean’s ear. “Dude, I’m not a dog.”

“Does it feel good?” 

“... shut up.” Dean’s brain was finally catching back up from his come down. “Speaking of feeling good, you are one kinky son of a bitch.” He raises an eyebrow at Castiel, who flushes pink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean.”

Dean laughs, a spark in his eye that makes Cas uneasy. “See I know a little somethin’ about turn-ons, Cas, can see it in your eyes. That and I’ve been laying on your dick this whole time. And it’s about time you relaxed too.” He’s itching to repay the favor, and even though he’s coming on all bravado, he’s just hoping Cas will let him.

Cas is surprised. Dean values and enjoys sexual acts more than most, and the idea that he wants to perform one with him, to him, is flattering. And, um, as Dean would say, hot. “What are you suggesting?”

Dean thinks on it, then grabs Cas’s hand again and takes a finger in his mouth, and sucks long and slow. Cas’s breath stalls in his chest and he freezes. Dean pulls off. “Well I know you like sucking.” He raises an eyebrow. “And I know you like watching. And I know you like me down here. Put it all together and whaddya get?” 

“Oh.” Cas’s mouth stays open in a little “o” and it’s adorable, in Dean’s not so humble opinion. 

“Sound good, feathers?”

Cas swallows and nods. Dean grins and turns in to face Cas, unbuttoning his shirt so he can mouth at the skin underneath. The feel of Dean’s tongue on his skin is foreign in the best way. He sneaks a peek at Cas watching him and bites him instead. Cas gasps and then smiles, laughing at himself, and Dean matches his grin. “Let’s break some commandments in this bitch, yeah?” He swings his legs over the couch and lands in front of Cas in what he’ll say is a pretty smooth move. Cas still looks too conflicted about his ‘breaking commandments’ comment to notice. It’s okay, Dean’s about to do much better moves that he will definitely notice.

Dean settles his arms on Cas’s thighs and squeezes his sides. Pressure points. Cas jerks. That’s not pleasurable. “Why did you do that?” 

Dean shrugs, cocky again. “You weren’t with me, needed to get you here.” He unbuttons Cas’s pants and pulls the zipper down. “Gotta have you with me on this one, Cas.” he says firmly. He palms him through his pants and looks up at him, waiting.

Cas is pretty sure he’s in shock. Dean is all over him and he’s in sensory overload and Dean is blaspheming and touching him. And it’s wonderful. 

“Cas.” 

Cas refocuses on Dean. “I’m with you, Dean.” 

Dean can’t believe he does it but he grabs Cas’s hand and kisses him on the palm and then he keeps holding onto him. Maybe it’s because Cas looks like he might float away any second, or maybe it just felt right. He pulls Cas’s boxers down and suddenly he’s sucking his cock and that’s amazing. Cas squeezes his hand until it hurts, which makes Dean feel pretty good about his work. He doesn’t like to brag, but his years of obnoxious eating has given him a pretty unbeatable (and by that he means, hardly there at all) gag reflex. His hand not holding Cas’s is holding Cas’s cock, jacking him when he needs a break. Cas is breathing hard and heavy and he’s watching Dean suck him when he isn’t squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Damn it Cas, how the hell do you taste so good,” Dean mutters. He’s determined to make Cas talk to him. Cas just moans lowly in response. Dean shakes his head and pulls off. Cas is one tough son of a bitch, but he’ll crack. Cas whimpers at the loss of contact.

“Dean.”

Dean grins. “For an angel, you’re a real wimp, you know that?” He gives Cas’s cock a last long lick that makes Cas’s whole body shudder, then keeps jacking him off. “No, you were so good to me and now I’m gonna be real good to you too, ‘mkay Cas?” 

Cas just nods, looking a little overwhelmed, and Dean lifts up and kisses him. He pulls away after a second, surprised that he did that and not sure why he did. Cas just looks back at him wide-eyed, but his hips jerk up in his hand. Dean raises an eyebrow at him and kisses him again, this time pushing his tongue in to lick at his mouth. Cas makes a surprised hmph and then, later, he finally gets a moan. So kissing is what does it for Cas.

Dean shuts his brain off and keeps kissing him. He gets back up on the couch and straddles Cas, letting go of his cock so he can grind up against him instead while they kiss. Cas’s moans get higher and Dean takes it as a sign. He puts his hands on Cas’s cheeks and pulls him forward so Cas has to hold onto him to keep the balance. Dean grins against his lips. It gives Cas enough time to get a word in. “Slower.”

Dean claps his hands against his cheeks. “Slower, right. Gotcha.” He starts to climb off Cas’s lap and earns Cas’s puppy dog face.

“You don’t have to- don’t stop,” 

Dean laughs and sits down next to him, wiping a drop of spit off his chin. “I’m not going anywhere, cool your jets, man,” he swings one leg over Cas’s and turns his face toward him. “We’re just going slower.” he pulls him in for another kiss, ignoring the jolt of nervousness that goes through him again. Cas rewards him with a happy moan that gets deeper when Dean starts jacking him off again. “Tell me before you cum?” 

Cas pulls away, confused. “Why?”

Dean smiles and kisses him a few times more, now that he’s started it’s hard to stop. “Because,” he reminds himself that Cas knows he’s a freak, “I want to taste you when you do.” He kisses Cas again before he can see his reaction, which, for the record, was the best kind of shock he’s ever felt. Dean may pick up on that when Cas forgets to move his mouth at all for the next five seconds. 

They go slow and hard until Cas starts to buck his hips up in need of more, and eventually, Dean gives it to him. He licks and bites and kisses every inch of Cas’s neck and jaw and lips until the noises start tumbling out of him. There’re barely words in the mix, but Dean thinks he hears his name a few times, along with “oh” and “please” and “yes.” The greatest hits. He starts hitting Dean in the chest to tell him he’s close, because he doesn’t trust his mouth to form the words. Dean gets the hint after it starts to hurt and bends down again to take Cas’s cock in his mouth. He reaches under his pants to grab his ass and help him thrust (or to just grab a handful of ass, take your pick). He mouths him through until he’s finished and Dean can pull off and swallow.

Cas leans his head back on the couch with an exhausted sigh. Dean laughs at him and pats his arm. “Easy, tiger. It’s a workout isn’t it?”

Cas nods. “I didn’t realize.”

“How do you think I stay looking this good? Just running for my life?”

Cas smiles dopily at him. “I’d never given it much thought before.” Dean scoffs and leans up against his shoulder. Did Cas just say he looks good?

“Cas, you uh, you wanna stay the night?”

Cas furrows his brow. “It’s almost morning already, Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I mean do you want to stay here for... however much night we’ve got left?”

Cas nods. “Okay. Yes. Do you want to-” Cas pats his lap and Dean has to force himself not to smile. 

“Yeah, okay,” Dean scoops his arms under Cas’s legs and scoots him over so he can at least lean on the arm of the couch. He’s not a monster, Cas should feel comfortable too. Then he considers for a second. Oh, what the hell. He goes facedown in Cas’s lap and puts one arm around his waist and the other under his legs so that his hand curves around to his butt. He’s only got a few more hours of excuses to touch as much as he wants, and he’s not gonna waste ‘em. “You’re not gonna write on my face while I’m asleep are you?” he mumbles from the bunched up fabric of Cas’s shirt. 

Cas grins. “I’d rather not get my fingers bitten off, so I think you are safe.” 

“Smart man...or uh, celestial being.”


	2. bro talk

By the time Dean wakes up a few hours later, he is completely disoriented. He wakes up to the slam of the door as Sam walks into the room and sits up with a start.

Sam furrows his brows. “Dean? What’re you doing in here?” 

Dean hesitates and looks around. He’s alone on the couch. “I, uh… I must’ve fallen asleep watching tv.” He rubs the back of his head. Did he… dream last night? No, no, he is pretty sure his imagination is not that good to him. Or bad to him. He hasn’t decided, he did some pretty embarrassing stuff with Cas. Like make out with the guy. Oh god.

“Uh, Dean. You there?” Sam is clapping at him.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Dean forced a yawn. Getting a buddy off was one thing, but making out with him? Like Dean had? That was definitely not okay. Sam would never let him hear the end of it. “Just, uh, didn’t get a ton of shut eye.”

Sam shakes his head with a laugh. “Well, next time don’t watch Doctor Sexy till three in the morning. We’ve got a case.”

Dean groans. “Ugh, can’t it wait?”

“Yeah, sure, what’s one more dead body so you can get your full eight hours?” 

Dean purses his lips. “Yeah, okay fine, I’ll get my bag.” He starts to head out to his room. 

“And call Cas! Could be an angel thing.” Dean undershoots his turn and runs into the corner of the wall. Has nothing to do with anything.

“Uh, Cas? You sure we need him on this, I feel like we got it.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam follows Dean out into the hallway and looks at him. “Dude, just call him. Don’t be a pussy, ask for help.”

Dean slams his door shut and grabs his go-bag, splashes some water on his face. He looks like deep fried shit. Good to go. 

They’re moving their shit into their motel room by the time Sam asks. “So, Dean, where’s Cas?”

Dean stalls. “Oh, I, uh I haven’t called him yet.” 

“You haven’t called him yet? Why the hell not?”

“Back off, gigantor, we just drove five hours. You think Cas was gonna just sit in the backseat and play the license plate game with us? I’m calling him right now.”

Sam crosses his arms and waits. Dean clears his throat and opens his arms, but all he can think about is how he’s weirdly proud that he knows how much Cas likes kissing. He really hopes his thoughts can’t transfer over or something when he’s praying. “Knock knock Cas, Sam and I here, we uh… we just need some help on a case, so if you could pop on down, that’d be, um, cool. Amen and all that.” 

He looks at Sam. And then there’s a rush of wings and Cas is standing there. “Hello, Dean. Sam.” 

“Hey, Cas.” They explain the case to him and he nods, thinking. 

“I’ll be happy to come along.” 

It’s settled, Cas is working the case with them, and so far, Dean has managed to be not totally awkward. He pulls Cas aside as they’re walking to the car, leaving Sam out of earshot. “Hey, Cas, so, last night-”

“I’m sorry I left you, Dean. Sam had awoken and I guessed that you would find something embarrassing about me being there.”

Dean huffs with a bitter smile. “Yeah, uh, thanks.” He hopes that doesn’t make him an asshole. “It’s just that, uh, that kinda thing, it’s, um, kinda weird.” 

“It’s a natural physical process, Dean-”

Dean chuckles and claps Cas on the back. “Not for us, man. It’s weird that we did that. Like I said, not really a usual friend thing, so…”

“I understand.”

“Cool, cool,” Dean pauses for another second, feeling awkward. And they work the case. Pretty much like normal. Dean is jealous of Cas’s lack of humanness, because he doesn’t understand how weird fucking around with your best friend is, but Dean does. 

Finally he can’t take it anymore, he feels like he’s going crazy and he’s judging himself way harder than he has for any sex thing since he was like 13. He and Sam go through a drive-through for burgers and leave Cas behind in the motel looking at the lore. Dean parks halfway across the empty lot from their room and Sam looks at him.

“You think a walk across the lot’s gonna burn off your double with bacon?”

Dean blows out a breath. “No. I wanna talk to you about somethin’ weird.” Sam studies his face. 

“About the case?” 

“No, no, it’s just… weird. You know how it gets lonely on the road, how that turns you a little weird sometimes?” 

“Dean, are you about to tell me some weird sex thing? Because I’m not sure I really-” He’s still scarred from when he was nine and Dean told him to how make a fleshlight with a couple of sponges and a glove.

“Relax, no, it’s just a... hookup thing?” Dean grimaces at the last words. 

Sam is relieved. He’s been able to handle Dean’s wildest hookup stories without a glitch. “Okay, yeah. Uh, you get weird when you get lonely, I get that.”

“And you do some stuff that you wouldn’t normally do.”

“Sure.” Sam’s impatient, he just wants Dean to spit out whatever probably minor stuff Dean’s being cagey about.

“Okay, well, I kinda hooked up with… Cas?” Dean’s clenching his teeth together, looking at Sam for his reaction. Sam opens his mouth, eyebrows furrowed. Dean’s waiting for him to say something incredibly wise or possibly start screaming, and then he just says:

“What?”

“What part of that sentence did you not understand?” Do not make him repeat it, please.

“How- how did that happen? I didn’t even know Cas, uh, did that.” Dean huffs out a laugh and nods nervously.

“Yeah, um, not a Ken doll after all.”

“Dean!” Sam pushes the heels of palms into his eyes. “I do not want to know about Cas’s junk.” Dean laughs at him.

“You asked!”

“I asked how it happened. And when? Did you, like, pray to him for that?” 

Dean choked on his breath. “No, Sam! I did not fax up a heavenly booty call, fuck. He just dropped in on me to freaking watch my horror marathon.” Sam raised his eyebrows. He was not seeing the connection.

“And that led to you ‘hooking up’ how?”

Dean runs a hand through his hair and sighs. There is no way to make this sound normal. “I kinda just let him… touch me? Not that that, douchebag.” he adds quickly to Sam’s wide eyes. “I don’t know, Cas is weird, and he just sat down and put his hands on me and… I let him. And then things got…” there’s no next word that is not gonna freak his brother out. 

Sam gets the picture. “And at no point did you think, hey, maybe I should stop this angel who’s my friend from doing some freaky crap to me, because that seems like a terrible idea?”

Dean bites his lip. Yeah, he was dumb. “Yeah, ‘course I did, and then we did it anyway.”

Sam thinks his brain is about to explode. Cas. “Wow, Dean, wow.” He takes a second, then looks at Dean with a curious grin on his face. “How was he?” I mean, Cas. Cas with all his naivety and also with all his angelic, like, rage. What the hell.

Dean presses his lips together, looking at the steering wheel. “Awesome.” He can feel Sam staring at him and he shrugs. An incredulous grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Shit, Sam, it was kinda fucking awesome.” 

Sam swallows, he asked. “Are you gonna do it again?” Dean snaps his head over to look at him.

“What? No, of course not, no. One time, weird night, no.”

Sam looks at him and then bursts out laughing.


	3. that not sex night

Dean’s laying on his bed staring at the ceiling. They’re just back from an exhausting hunt and he’s still covered in blood and dirt and he doesn’t want to know what else. But he can’t get himself to get up and walk the ten feet over to the shower, so he just lays. He hears footsteps in the hall and turns his head slightly toward his door. Somebody in a trench coat walks past. “Cas?” Cas backs up and stands in the door, nodding to Dean. “What, you weren’t gonna say hi?” 

Cas tips his head, doesn’t get that Dean’s joking. “I didn’t notice you. You kind of… blend in to the decor at the moment.” Dean looks around and he has to agree. His whole face and shirt are covered in dirt that looks pretty damn close to the color of his bedspread. He chuckles.

“Yeah, well, nobody said a hunter’s life ain’t glamorous.” Cas walks over to sit on the edge of Dean’s bed next to him. 

“People do say that, frequently. You say that frequently. Complain about it, even.” Dean laughs and kicks him in the ribs tiredly, then lets out a huge yawn. “You’re tired. I’ll leave you to rest.” Dean mumbles something incoherent and Cas starts to stand up, but hesitates. “Would you like me to heal you?”

Dean opens an eye to look at him. “Just got a few nicks and scratches, mfine.” 

Cas frowns. “You have a black eye and at least two bruised ribs. There is gravel still stuck in your hands.” Dean nods and takes a look at his palms. The nasty bitch had blasted him twenty feet, he must’ve skid at least four of those on the road. 

“Like I said. Mfine.” Cas reaches for Dean’s hand and he jerks it away, but Cas just snatches it back. He doesn’t heal Dean, knows he for some reason doesn’t want that, but he tries to brush the flecks of rock out of the scratched grooves. Dean frowns but lets him. When he’s satisfied he takes the other hand and does the same. “Cas, stop it.” 

“Why are you always so surly?” 

“I’m not surly, I’m tired.”

“You’re surly.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Eat me.”

“See? Surly.” 

“And you’re in my room!”

“How many times have I saved your life?” 

“How many times have I saved yours?” Cas just stares at him. “Why are you so feisty tonight anyway?” Dean props himself up on his elbows to look at Cas. He’s apparently stuck with Cas. Not like he was sleeping anyway.

“I get to be in bad moods just like you, Dean.” He shrugs and stands up to take off his coat. He hangs it on the bedpost and sits back down. A little jolt goes through Dean’s chest, which he tries to shake off. He’s just taking his coat off, nothing weird about that. Nothing suggestive about that. It wasn’t going to happen again. “Why do you want to stay in pain?” 

Dean makes a face. “A little bit of pain centers me. Feels like home.” He’s joking, a little. It’s also true, though. 

“Ah. Like biting in sex.” 

Dean blinks hard. “What the fuck, Cas.” Every time he looks at his life, it gets more and more messed up. Now he’s corrupted an angel. Body and mind. Ugh.

“Is that why you like it?”

“Uh, which one?” 

Cas cracks a smile and lays down next to Dean, lacing his fingers together on his chest. “The sex one.”

“Who says I like it?” Dean looks over at him.

“You have, several times. Mostly when tied up by a demon or monster of some kind.” Dean laughs.

“Those are jokes, Cas.”

“So you don’t? Like it?” 

Dean smiles at him with crinkled eyebrows. “Cas, are you trying to get in my pants right now?”

He looks a little taken aback, the tip of his nose goes pink. For a second Dean thinks he’s got it wrong. He can just pass that off as a joke, probably. “I… might be.” 

Cas looks so concentrated Dean can’t help but grin. He opens his mouth and shuts it a few times, not sure what to say. “Cas, I just hunted a ghoul. I’m so smelly even I can smell me.” He’s got no idea how anybody could want to get it on with him right now. Cas doesn’t seem to be bothered. 

“As always, you underestimate an angel’s senses.”

Dean shakes his head, looking at the ceiling. “Well, sorry Cas, but I’m way too wiped to even brush my teeth.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Hey, nothing against you, man. It’s just-” He’s so far beyond tired his eyes don’t even care whether they’re open or closed at this point.

“You need to sleep.”

“Annoying, huh,” 

“Not especially.” Cas answers honestly. Dean huffs. Then there’s silence. Dean’s waiting to hear a whoosh of wings or to feel Cas’s weight lift off the other side of the mattress. But neither of those things happen. 

“Buddy? You, uh, just gonna stay here?” 

“That’s what I planned to do, yes.”

Dean rubs a hand over his face, which manages to hurt his face, his hand, and his ribs that had to move for it. He sighs and flops it back down by his side. No energy left to argue. “Alright. Do me a favor, angel magick that light off, will ya?” Cas lifts a finger and the overhead lightbulb shatters to the floor. Dean laughs breathlessly and punches him in the arm. “Dick.”

Dean wakes up feeling like a gas station burrito that’s been left in the bottom of a high school lost and found for three years. In other words, like shit. Then he hears breathing next to him. He’s halfway to the knife under his pillow before he remembers that Cas just… didn’t leave. He narrows his eyes to try and see in the dark, but it looks like Cas is sleeping? He shakes his head; too early to question it. He’s managed to tug his grimy pants and shirt off and put a robe on before he steps on his first piece of glass. 

“Ow, ow, motherfucker goddamnit, fuck!” He hops toward the door and gets a few more shards really in there. He yanks the door open on one foot and slams it behind him. 

“Dean?” Sam comes skidding around the corner and stops when he sees Dean hobbling around. “What the hell?” 

Dean looks up absolutely murderous. “You just gonna stand there, asshole?” Sam laughs and yanks Dean’s foot up high enough he falls on his ass. “Douchebag.” 

Sam raises and eyebrow at him. “You want me to get this out of your foot or not?” He yanks one piece of the big pieces out as revenge. Dean grits his teeth and Sam pulls out the other shards, which, granted, didn’t go deep. 

“Dude, what the hell did you even break?” 

Dean grunts and swats him away. “Doesn’t matter, I need a shower.” He stands up and starts walking, limping exaggeratedly toward the bathroom. 

“So… you’re welcome,” Sam rolls his eyes. Always with the gratitude. He’s just about to head back to the kitchen when Dean’s bedroom door opens again. And Cas walks out. Sam blinks three times and looks from Cas walking out of Dean’s room, sans coat, to Dean shuffling toward the shower like a distressed flamingo. “Uh… hey, Cas,” he nods awkwardly. Dean hears Sam’s voice and turns around to see. 

“Oh, he’s uh-”

“Well I gotta go, um, throw this glass away, so.” Sam hightails it out of there before he has to deal with Cas actually saying a word, thank god. 

Dean closes his eyes and leans against the bathroom door frame. Cas is off put; he recognizes the awkwardness, but he’s not sure exactly what’s wrong or what to do. “Dean-”

Dean holds up a hand. “Forget it, Cas.” he sounds more tired than mad, which is good for Cas at least. He isn’t really mad, which is honestly character development for Dean. He leaves Cas standing in the hallway to take a shower on one foot like a doofus, then limps to the kitchen wearing his robe. Sam’s reading a book, but when he sees Dean come in he just lowers the book to the table. 

“Shut up.” he grunts. “Now that, that was not what it looked like, okay?” Sam’s really enjoying this.

“Whatever, man,” he throws up his hands with a smug grin. This morning painted a clear picture.

“Man, I hate you! He just…” ended up sleeping in his bed? Oh yeah no that would definitely not make him sound like a cheeseball. “It wasn’t like that.” he jumps up and storms off. Sam calls after him before he can get far.

“What’d you guys break last night anyway? Lamp, vase, glass dildo?” He gets a fist flipping him off for his trouble. Doesn’t stop Sam from laughing his ass off.


	4. another day another impulsive decision

It’s a day that Dean’s christened a “free play” day. It’s a rare day off, where they’re all ‘supposed’ to be looking for a case, but none of them really are. Sam holes up in the library with a book he’d been eyeing called ‘magic spells for the bored and lazy.’ Dean cleans up his room and replaces the lightbulb. He manages to spend the whole morning cleaning and organizing random things he comes across, but is officially wandering around aimlessly by afternoon. He probably could think of something to do, but his thoughts are kind of preoccupied by Cas. And him just dropping by his room for a booty call. Cas. He knows that they already fucked around once, but something about the idea that Cas actually liked it enough to come back and try to lay down the moves? It makes him go all tingly. 

It makes him think about all the things he could have done instead. 

So it’s mere impulse when he passes Cas again in the hallway. “Hey Cas,” he grabs his wrist and pulls him into the nearest room, the electrical room. He lets go of him once he’s in and lets the door shut. Cas just waits for him to say. “I, uh, about last night…” he’s pretty sure he’s actually giving his best friend the once over right now. “Wanna make up that raincheck?” 

He steps in close and leans in to kiss him, hands almost on Cas’s cheeks when Cas pulls back, like he doesn’t know what’s happening. Dean grins. “Calm down, I’m trying to kiss you, dork.” he moves slowly to show him, pulling Cas’s head back toward him until he can kiss him. Nicely. Everything’s so slow and deliberate and soft Dean has nothing to distract him from the butterflies in his stomach. That freaks him the hell out enough to pull away. “Uh, that is… if…” he laughs nervously. Cas is just looking at him with those freaking puppy dog eyes like he always does. “Cas?”

Cas kisses him back. Pulls Dean in by the waist and walks him back until he bumps into the massive computer. Dean is not prepared for this, not prepared for how innocent this feels. They’re making out like teenagers, like people (okay, person) who haven’t been around this block a couple hundred times. Hell, they’re making out like people who haven’t already fucked around. Dean’s too afraid to move his hands off Cas’s face, so much that after several minutes of Cas trying to deepen things, he steps away. “Dean, is everything okay?” 

Dean huffs. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, guess I’m just a little out of practice.” At the whole romantic kissing in the closet thing while trying to pretend he’s not panicking on the inside. Why is he panicking on the inside, fuck. Cas is actually smiling at him like he’s a kid who keeps insisting he didn’t eat the last cookie, and it’s driving him crazy. “What?” 

Cas tries to just dive back in and kiss him again without answering, but Dean ducks it. He rolls his eyes and untucks his shirt, places Dean’s hand on his bare hips. “Practice.” 

Dean’s not sure if it’s a command or an explanation but he lets Cas kiss him anyway. Cas has given him the key to the candy store, and he’s gonna feel him up for all he’s worth. His hands aren’t as soft or gentle as Cas’s, his is more pressure and push and feeling. He’s goddamn obsessed with every inch of Cas, and he lets him know it. Grins the whole time and bites his lip when Cas starts to kiss down his neck and whispers every ridiculous praise that’s running through his head. 

Cas kind of feels like he knows what he’s doing. Sure, Dean might have been the one to pull him into this room, but after that? Somehow he had been the one more on top of things. He’d had to physically put Dean’s hands on him, like he was bashful, but now he’s touching him more than he had been the first night. He might be an angel, but this, Dean whispering in his ear, is the first time he’s ever felt anything close to… worship? He’s kissing Dean’s neck, and he swears he might be starting to understand vampirism. He can’t get close enough to Dean. 

Dean’s been around this block enough times to recognize the hunger in his hands and Cas’s lips. They’re both panting in between kissing, and Cas is practically bowling him over. He wraps a leg around Cas, trying to gain some kind of leverage that he can’t get in this position. Cas lifts him up onto a table like he’s nothing, but it’s no use. He can’t get the friction that his mind (okay dick) is fucking dying for. They’re both dying for. “Cas, Cas, Cas,” he says quickly. He feels like he’s gonna die. Cas feels like he’s gonna die. “Too much, too much,” The idea of stopping is horrific, but Dean wants something that is not gonna happen in this room. “Cas, I-”

“Guys!” Sam’s voice sounds more reluctant than anything. Which means, he didn’t hear them. Good news. Bad news: “We’ve got a case!”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and Cas freezes. “I’m gonna kill him. Oh my god I’m gonna kill him.”

“Please don’t kill your brother.”

Dean’s holding Cas around the neck and he lets his face fall on his shoulder, fucking worn out. Sweaty. He tries to think of a comeback but his brain gives out on him. “You don't... kill my brother." He gets a blank stare for that one.

He's a disaster.


	5. the old classic just doesn't hit the same

“Where’d you disappear to earlier? Off to fuck Cas some more?” Sam is joking, it’s obvious in his voice. Dean’s spontaneous coughing fit and bright red face do not care about that. “Holy shit! You were off fucking Cas some more!”

“I did not fuck Cas!” He was not that lucky. 

“Okay, you were off getting fucked by Cas, my apologies.” 

He was definitely not that lucky. “Fuck off! We... might have made out, like, a lot.” Dean grimaces and looks at him. He is way past being sorry about it, but he still knows he’s a dumbass.

“Jesus H. Christ, Dean! You’re making out with him too? What the hell are you doing!”

Dean pretends the same thoughts had not gone through his head like, a day ago. “What, am I supposed to have a ‘no kissing, only dicks’ rule?” 

“Ew, no, I just mean-”

“That I need to fuck him out of my system before I royally screw everything in our fragile little ecosystem up?”

“You need to-” Sam covers his face with his hands and breathes through them. “If that what you need to do, sure. Just do me a favor and please don’t tell me about it?” 

Dean tilts his head in acknowledgment and takes a swig of his beer. “Let’s go mingle with the locals, huh?” Sam drops his hands. Same old Dean.

“You wanna go from drinking beer in our motel room to drinking beer in a bar?”

Dean makes a face and stands up, grabbing his coat. “Of course not, Sammy, I wanna go drink whiskey in a bar.”

The waitress is pretty. They always are, aren’t they. “Hi boys, how are we doing tonight?”

“Oh, better now that you’re here.” Dean grins.

She eyes him, a twinkle in her eye Dean is very well acquainted with. “I bet you say that to all the bartenders.”

He sucks in a breath, faking hurt. “Come on, do I look like that kinda guy?”

She leans against the table, way too close to Dean to be just friendly. “You really want me to answer that question?”

“Dean.” he puts out a hand for her to shake. She takes it slowly and holds on. 

“Mandy. First round’s on me, Dean.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You tryin’ to get me drunk?” 

Mandy laughs. “Do I look like that kind of girl?” 

“You really want me to answer that question?” 

Sam clears his throat. Loudly. Mandy and Dean look over to see him staring pointedly at them. Dean frowns, and Mandy gets the hint. “I’ll be back with those drinks.” she says quietly, and sets off back behind the bar. 

“Thanks for that, little brother.” World’s greatest cock block. But Dean’s on his game tonight, and no amount of judgemental staring is gonna stop him from charming the pants off Mandy. Sam eventually gives up and before Mandy can end her shift, stands up to go. 

He gives Dean a look. “You know, sometimes I seriously worry about you.”

“Oh, eat me. I’m having a little fun.”

“Yeah, yeah, a little fun here, a little fun back at the bunker, I’d say you’re having a lot of fun.”

Dean’s offended. “You’re trying to cockblock me on Cas’s account? Please, I sucked the guy’s dick, I didn’t give him a promise ring.” 

Sam deadpans. That image is gonna stick in his mind, forever. “Okay, fine, I’m leaving.”

Dean does have fun with Mandy. They talk, they drink more than they talk, and then they take it back to her place. And it feels good, Dean’s not about to say it doesn’t. But it does cross his mind a couple of times that… well, Mandy’s moans are not as satisfying as Cas’s, feeling Mandy up doesn’t give him the same jolt of excitement as he gets with Cas. He leaves her place that night satisfied, with a nagging thought in the back of his head that Cas is just, a better lay. That's it. Must be.


	6. it ain't always pretty

Everything’s fine for a while. Weeks. Sam and Dean work cases from Arkansas to Washington to Maryland, and everything’s good until Illinois. A hunt goes bad. Not entirely bad, they gank the sonofabitch, but everybody the thing had when they caught up to it? Dead. Died bloody and they couldn’t save them. 

Dean’s got his headphones on, which is his universal symbol of Leave Me The Fuck Alone. Castiel doesn’t seem to get the memo, though, because he knocks on his door and comes in without an answer. Dean glances up and works his jaw in annoyance, then goes back to ignoring him. 

“Dean.” He stands by his bed and waits. Dean lets him stew for a good thirty seconds before he sighs and takes off his headphones. 

“What, Cas?”

“Sam said- Sam said your hunt didn’t go well.” Dean looks back down, expression blank. “I’m sure you did everything you could,”

“Yeah, well, that just wasn’t good enough, was it?” he snaps. “So unless you’re about to bring four innocent people that we got killed back from the dead, get out.”

“Dean, you didn’t get anyone killed. The monster that killed them got them killed.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t save them. So that’s on me, too.”

Cas shakes his head. “How do you live like this? Blaming yourself every time something goes wrong, every time someone dies.” Dean raises his eyebrows and picks up the glass of whiskey on his nightstand, swirls it around for emphasis. “Alcohol doesn’t-”

“Listen Cas, I’m not a third grader, I know alcohol doesn’t solve any problems and I know I didn’t murder those people. But I can’t stop feeling guilty about them, so alcohol’s gonna get me through until tomorrow when I might be able to.” 

Cas nods. “Fair enough. Would you like me to stay with you? Perhaps I can be of use in some way, to help you feel better.” He pulls at his tie a little and sits next to Dean. Dean frowns at him.

“Cas, if you are actually trying to get it on with me, why the hell would you-”

“I was not suggesting sex, Dean.” Cas’s voice is hard. Sometimes it seems like Dean truly thinks he can't comprehend any human emotions. Dean notices his tone and looks away guiltily. He knows he can be an asshole when he’s like this, that’s why he’s trying to be alone. “Comforts usually come in the form of familiarities, softness. A piece of media which brings you peace, a warm drink or food you enjoy, a hug.” 

Dean narrows his eyes at him. “You want to give me a hug?” Cas blows out a long breath, like talking to Dean is exhausting. Which, fair. Dean has to talk to himself all the time and he’d love a fucking break from it. He’s got an overwhelming urge to apologize, and god the pity party, he’s annoying himself now. “Listen, I don’t need you to hold my hand, I don’t need you to… it’s okay, okay. I’m good at making it through on my own.” There. He wasn’t a dick for like two sentences.

“I know.” Cas says softly. “I just… want to.” He scoots over until their arms are touching. “You can put your headphones back on, it’s fine.” He tries to speak as matter of factly as possible, to not spook Dean. It works. Dean looks at him warily for a second and then nods, puts his headphones back on. 

Cas grabs a book from Dean’s side table and looks at it. Christine. The spine is well worn, the pages are yellow, and the cover is taped back on with duck tape. Dean obviously loves this book. He opens it and leans back into Dean. 

Dean closes his eyes. His instincts are still telling him to keep everything tense, as tense as the thoughts he’s trying to drown out are, but Cas sitting next to him like it’s just a normal Sunday afternoon is telling a different story. He has to make himself relax at first. After that, it’s just pretty natural to lean over on Cas a little. By the time he dozes off, his head is on Cas’s shoulder.

Sam’s just restless. He tries organizing his room, tries reading, tries journaling to help feel just a little bit better. But eventually he comes to terms with the fact that this day is just gonna suck. That hunt sucked. They did everything right and everyone died and the world just sucks sometimes. So he walks the halls. He straightens picture frames when he sees them. He sees Dean’s door is open a crack and pushes it open with his shoulder. 

Cas is sitting on Dean’s bed reading a book, which would’ve been weird enough, except Dean’s passed out on his shoulder with his headphones on. “Uh…” Cas looks up from his book to see Sam’s mildly surprised expression. 

“It’s the best I could get him to do.”

Sam’s brain goes straight to what else Cas was trying to get Dean to do. Gross. Obviously that’s not the case right now, but Dean’s comment about sucking dick is still in the back of his mind every time he looks at Cas now. Luckily, it still seems weird enough that he can’t actually picture it at all. Cas is perpetually fully dressed and… Cas. And Dean is… Dean. Eh, guess they’ve always had a little bit of a thing.

Okay, he’s officially off the deep end.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s always pretty guarded after…” He sighs. Cas sets his book on his knee, concerned.

“How are you doing, Sam?” 

“Oh, I’m… not great. But that’s the life.” He gives Cas a half-hearted smile.

“Well, if there’s anything I can do, please,” 

Sam nods. “Thanks, Cas. Just uh, keep, doing whatever you're doing for my brother.” He leaves them be.


	7. don't spook him with direct emotion talk

It’s a week later before Sam brings it up. He wants to limit the amount of outright aggression Dean puts up in defense, maybe keep it to a nice classic bristle. They did their first case after the bad one and it went well for once. Dean’s happy. Hell, he wants to go to a freaking concert before they do another case. 

Sam brings it up in the car. “Hey, uh, so how you doing about… Illinois?” 

Dean stops drumming on the wheel and looks over at him with a frown. “Illinois? I’m doing how I’m doing, Sam. It’s over.”

So far so good. Bristle, avoidance, but no yelling. “Yeah. I get it.” he leaves it for a second. “I’m glad Cas was there for you.” 

He can sense Dean tense up. “Whaddya mean?” 

Sam looks at him. “I saw him in your room the other night. I’m just glad-”

“Wow, Sammy, didn’t know you were a voyeur now. Well, hate to break it to you, nothing happened. It-” 

Oh, he’s being deliberately thick. Making this about sex? Even trying to make him defensive. Dean forgets that they’ve been brothers for what feels like a thousand years, Sam knows every one of Dean’s tricks. He takes a deep breath to keep calm. “You know I’m not talking about sex, Sam. I’m not even fucking implying anything, I’m just saying that I’m glad somebody was there to stop you from drowning in your own misplaced guilt for once.” He’s a little mad. Dean’s tricks still work.

Dean scoffs and looks at the road, staying quiet. He leaves it for so long Sam has enough time to calm down and wonder why he’s leaving it.

“Dean, is there anything?” 

“Any what, Sam?” 

“Anything… anything to imply?” Dean sneers, but it looks like he can’t think of anything to say. “Dean. Dean, do you like Cas?” What the fuck. Dean looks at him like he might murder him, but something in his eyes makes Sam back off. “Okay, dude, I’m just…” 

Dean sighs and rubs a hand over his face. Genuine multiple minutes pass of Dean looking constipated before he says anything. “Listen, man, I know it’s weird, okay? Dude’s my best friend, I shouldn’t be messing around with him, and it’s somehow even weirder that I’m- that he’s- the not sex stuff. Okay, it’s all weird and I don’t know what it is. But it scares the hell out of me.”

Sam nods, processing. He tries to understand it. “Do you think you’re like… I mean, does it feel like, like Cassie or-” he wants to say Lisa, but he still remembers Dean’s promise from years ago if he ever mentions her. “Do you feel about him the same way you’ve felt about… other people?” 

Dean furrows his eyebrows. Somehow, Sam’s actually getting answers. “No. But it’s… all the same stuff. But it’s Cas, so all that stuff also feels off. I mean, it’s not like I’m gonna get all weepy and shit.”

Sam laughs. “Like you ever did? Besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you get more weepy over Cas than just about anybody in the past… years.” Dean is not amused. “I don’t know, I’m just saying, let it be whatever it is if it’s whatever it is. It doesn’t have to look like anything else.”

“Who knows if Cas can even feel… that kinda stuff.”

Sam shrugs. “Dean. Hear me when I say, if Cas can feel that kinda stuff, he feels it for you.”

Dean twists his mouth in thought and turns the music up, sets his shoulders. That’s the end of that conversation. But honestly, he got way farther than he thought he would. And uh… apparently his brother might be a little bit of something for an Angel of the Lord. Which is fucking wild. Kinda fits with their life.


	8. dean's actually doing stuff on purpose now

Dean is still freaked out. No doubt about it. But ever since his talk with Sam, it feels a little more… allowed? It means that sometimes when Cas says something dumb or oddball he lets himself smile after making fun of him. It means that he casually tells the room at large (Cas) that he’s gonna go wash Baby. He does it once a week, to be completely fair, he just never announces it. 

He’s been getting sudsy for a few minutes when Cas comes in. Dean pretends not to notice, because he’s still pretending he didn’t announce this in hopes Cas would come. 

“I didn’t know you owned a pair of shorts.” He can hear the smile in Cas’s voice. He turns around and shows them off, sponge in hand. 

“Made ‘em myself.” It’s true. Sure, he only did it because they caught on fire, and it was that or pitch them, but hey. They’re hot, if he says so himself. 

“I believe you.” 

Dean doesn’t recognize the sass because he’s too proud of the shorts to hear it. He goes back to washing the Impala and Cas leans against the railing. Even though cut-offs are hardly impressive, Dean’s legs actually are. They’re muscled and strong and starkly white compared to his tanned arms and face. Also a little wet and sudsy and… 

“You just gonna stare or are you gonna help?” Dean tosses a sponge at him. It hits him square in the chest and Cas catches it. He gives in and takes his coat off, tosses his tie, spares his shoes. He’s personally heard Sam say that wet socks are worse than being in the cage with Lucifer. 

Dean is not at all distracted by Cas shedding clothes. He’s not distracted by the wet spot on Cas’s shirt where the sponge landed. He’s totally focusing on washing Baby’s trunk, on listening to AC/DC from the speakers, but then Cas is by his side and mimicking his motions. He raises an eyebrow at him. “Really? I gotta Mr. Miyagi you on literal wax-on wax-off?” Cas crinkles his eyebrows at him and, goddamn, he’s so… Dean kisses him without a second thought. Long and slow and just as he’s about to pull away… he squeezes his sponge down Cas’s collar.

“Dean!” 

Cas jumps back from him with a shout and claws at his back. “Oh come on, it’s not even cold,” Cas glares and throws his sponge at Dean. And then he unbuttons his shirt. Dean’s smile only falters a little; he goes back to washing Baby. Cas grins and flicks his finger. Dean’s sponge flies back into his face and smears itself all over while Dean sputters out soap. “No fuckin’ fair, angel powers is cheating, douchewad!” 

It’s a full out war. Cas continues to cheat. Dean brings out the hose. Hose trumps everything, and Cas is soaked through in thirty seconds. He walks up the stream and turns the water off, laughing. Then he pulls Dean in for a kiss. 

And there they are again. Except this time Cas is shirtless and soaked and Dean is wearing shorts that barely cover his ass. This time Dean walks them back to Baby and presses Cas up against her and this time he doesn’t hesitate to deepen anything. The kisses are less frenzied than the last time, more intentional. Dean, for one, feels like Baby is helping him big time with his mojo, because he is very, very sure. 

Dean’s practically got Cas crushed up against the car door. He feels different this time. The other times, Dean was energetic, passionate, but this time he’s intense. It’s a little off putting and a lot hot. If Cas is being honest, it’s the kind of intensity he’s always admired in Dean and wished he could be the subject of. 

“Cas, you wanna go back to my room?” He gives him a little bit of a smile.

“Yes.”

“First, though, we gotta white down the car.”

Cas stares at him. “Are you serious?” 

“Deadly.”

He actually makes them wipe down the fucking car. 

“I’m not getting streaks on my baby, Cas, not for any ass, not even yours!”

Cas can’t believe it. It’s ridiculous. He’s in love. 

After Baby is good and truly sparkling, Dean finally makes good on his offer. He scoops up Cas’s clothes and runs away like a gremlin, in Cas’s annoyed opinion. Of course, this is also so he can make sure Sam’s nowhere to be found. By the time Cas steps into Dean’s room, he’s left a trail of water through the bunker.

“I’ll mop it up later.” 

“I’m starting to become concerned that you have an obsession with cleaning.”

“Shut up!” Dean shuts the door behind him and throws a glare Cas’s way. Now that they’re actually in the room, he can feel those nerves from last time coming back. He tells them to man the hell up, Cas is half naked and shivering right in front of him. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, huh?”

“How charitable.” Cas crosses his arms over his chest with a smile.

Dean rolls his eyes. The idiot is trying to play hard to get. Fine. They’ll play I show you mine you show me yours. He takes off his shirt and tosses it into his hamper because fuck Cas, he’s neat in his own home. He slips his fingers through the loops of Cas’s pants and tugs them down. Cas does the same for Dean and they’re naked. They’re really doing this. 

Dean only hesitates for a second before he kisses him hard. This is the part he knows. He puts his hands on Cas’s cheeks and sinks into the kiss. Cas slides his hands up his back and grips him tight. Dean kisses him like that until he can’t press any harder, any closer, and then his kisses start to get sloppy, open and loose and wet. He moans into it, wants to give Cas all he’s got, wants him to know that he’s giving all he’s got.

A shudder goes through Cas’s body that even Dean can feel. “Cas,” Dean doesn’t care how he sounds. “Bed, bed,” he pulls him along by the hip and half pushes him onto the bed. Then he stalls and stares. Cas is laid out, naked and sweating, on his bed, and he looks absolutely gorgeous.

“Dean, get the hell down here,” Cas growls. He yanks Dean down until he ends up straddling him and Dean’s laughing. Cas doesn’t have time to question in before Dean’s kissing his neck, plastered all over him.

“Can I give you a hickey?” Dean pops back up, excited like a kid asking for a puppy. “I haven’t given anybody a hickey in forever, and…” he runs a finger over Cas’s collar bone. “Your pale ass could use some color.” 

Cas grins bemusedly. “Sure,” 

Dean gives him a last kiss before he heads back down and starts to suck on the side of his neck, hard. He grinds his hips down on Cas and Cas moans. “Tell me about it, feathers,” Dean mutters happily. Cas pants out a laugh. Dean finishes his work and sits up to look at it, rubbing the spit away. “Much better,” He rolls his hips into Cas’s again, licks his tongue and strokes them both at once. He holds on to Cas’s arm and Cas grips him back, and he lets himself show every bit of the fucking amazing things he’s feeling. Because he knows Cas likes to see it. He stops moving his hips, stops touching himself once he really starts to need it; it is not even close to being over yet. “Cas,” he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get himself back under control. “Cas,”

“Dean, I’m here,” Cas pulls him down by the arm and moves against Dean slowly. “Open your eyes, Dean.” 

Dean looks at Cas and comes back down to earth. Cas is staring at him with the same steady intensity he always has, albeit with more… presentness. Dean runs a thumb over Cas’s cheek, panting. “Cas, I want you to fuck me.” he says clearly. 

Cas blinks. “As in,-”

He grins. “As in, I want you, to fuck me.” Cas doesn’t say anything for a second. “Please?” Dean bites his lip. It’s all he’s been thinking about since that time in the electrical closet.

Cas catches up and nods. “Yes. Of course. I want- I want that.” He wasn’t expecting it, but Dean… the look in his eyes is something beyond even what he’d seen the first time they’d done this. He wants to chase that. 

Dean releases a breath and smiles widely. He rolls off Cas to reach into his nightstand. He rolls back over to show him lube and a condom, eyebrows raised. “Okay, we’re going classy,” He reaches over Cas and pulls back the bedspread, tugging it awkwardly out from under Cas. “Under the covers.” He says it like it’s the Ritz, like pulling Cas beside him is a grand gesture; it makes Cas laugh. Dean kisses him again and presses the lube and condom into his hands. Cas pulls away to look at them like he’s strategizing. Dean watches him for a second before taking the condom out of his hand gently and putting in by the pillow. “We’re gonna need some time before that.” 

Cas nods. “I think I’ll need some guidance here.” Dean’ll take care of him, make sure he doesn’t do anything wrong, he knows that. And it’s not even like he doesn’t know the concept, more like… he’s nervous.

Dean puts a hand on his cheek. “‘Course, Cas, ‘course. Here, start small.” he pulls him back into kissing, lets the heat build back and hooks a leg over him to pull him closer. He pulls away for a second after Cas starts thrusting against him. “Okay, hey,” he kisses his cheek lightly. “You’re sweating like a mother, here,” he helps Cas with the lube, guides his hand between his legs until Cas’s fingers are pressing up against the soft skin of his hole. “Okay, okay, one at a time,” he murmurs. Cas pushes a finger inside, “Too fast, too fast,” he gasps. 

Cas pulls his finger out and Dean makes an equally pained face. “I’m sorry, sorry,” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he pats Cas’s cheek with his other hand and pushes Cas’s finger back in himself, looking at Cas as he goes. Once he’s pretty sure Cas isn’t gonna give him another heart attack, he leans in to kiss him softly. “Easy does it.” Cas finds a slow rhythm and Dean leans into it, rocking with him. “Another, another,” he’s at that place where things are starting to get a little harder to hear, just a little fuzzier around the edges.

Cas has decided this is his favorite thing yet. Sure, it includes a learning curve, but watching Dean respond like this? He’s captivated. Dean responds to every move he makes, gasps or kisses him deeper or bites his lip, with every slight curve of his finger. And then he finds a spot that makes Dean claw at him breathlessly and he never wants to stop that. 

“Cas, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna- stop, stop, stop,” Cas stops moving all together and Dean squeezes his eyes shut tight, breathing hard. 

“Dean, is everything-” 

“Stop talking.” Dean nods and bites his lip, then lets out another breath and opens his eyes. He kisses Cas quickly to reassure him because he looks lost. “Sorry, I, uh… you’re really good at that, so, uh, file that away for future-” he huffs and shakes his head, guides Cas’s fingers out again slowly. He looks at Cas slack jawed. “Your… everything, is…” Fucking hell he’d propose right now if somebody threw him a diamond ring. “Fuck, Cas. Please, fuck me.”

Cas just grins and dives headfirst into Dean’s lips. Dean is pulling at him like he’s life itself and he’s never felt so powerful. Dean pulls away from him for just long enough to rip the condom open with his teeth and spit it out over his shoulder. Cas watches with a smile. “You’re pretty skilled at that. Had a lot of practice?” 

Dean stops and looks at him, offended. “Don’t slutshame me!” He gets insanely pleased when Cas laughs at that and doesn’t take another second to roll the condom on him. He jacks him off a few times, just for fun, just to see Cas squirm a little, then gets very liberal with the lube. Cas gasps at the cold and Dean grins until he does the same thing. He hesitates, then, “If you get on top, then I can- then we can- see each other,” Cas nods immediately and shifts with Dean until he’s leaning over Dean. Dean clears his throat and hikes his legs up, taps Cas on the arm to ask him to hold him. Saying the words out loud would cross the line of vulnerability he just can’t handle. 

“Dean.” Dean comes out of his thoughts and looks at Cas. “I need you here with me.” he says steadily. Dean huffs a laugh.

“I’m, I’m here. I’m here, Cas.”

“Are you ready?”

Dean grins and lifts up enough to get an incredibly dirty kiss. “Hell yeah.” Cas lines himself up and gets a nod from Dean. He goes slow, he learned, and pays close attention to every change on Dean’s face. The feeling itself is incredible and completely new and he doesn’t want to miss a second. 

Dean forces himself to keep his eyes open and looking at Cas. Words seem like too big a task right now, so he settles for nodding to let Cas know how he’s doing. Cas keeps going slow and steady. “Cas please, please go faster,” he digs his fingernails into Cas’s back and pulls him in and deeper, making a small high pitched noise. 

“Are you-”

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m more than okay, just keep going,” Dean says shakily. “Harder, please,” Cas pushes harder, encouraged by the moans he keeps ripping out of Deans throat. “Cas,”

Cas leans in close and kisses Dean through another low moan. “Keep saying my name- Dean-” Every thrust knocks another sound from Dean, each one louder than the last. Dean looks overwhelmed at the request; his eyes are glazing over even though he’s still holding them open.

“Oh god, oh, fuck, Cas, Cas, yes, please, I’m, Cas, fuck I, I’m gonna cum, I- Cas!” Dean cums with a yell and squeezes Cas tight.

Cas has not known heaven until this moment. Hearing Dean say his name like… that, that’s the best thing he’s ever known. It almost sets him over the edge, but not quite. Dean’s reeling and floating in his afterglow, but he keeps his eyes on Cas, taps on his shoulders to keep him present, smiles at him even as he jumps at each thrust. “You’ve got this, Cas, ‘m right here, yeah,” keeps talking him through. It’s his voice that finally gets Cas there and he cums with a stuttering groan. 

Dean eases Cas off him after he comes down. He grabs a towel and cleans them both off, then he chucks it in the general direction of the laundry. He doesn’t give a fuck anymore. Cas just watches him do it, a neutral expression on his face. Dean notices him watching after he’s finished.

“Whatcha looking at?” 

“You.” 

Dean pauses and flops back on his pillow. “Sap.” The word makes his stomach flip flop; calling a lover a sap after sex is the epitome of sap. “Cas, that was… fucking awesome.”

Cas smiles. “Yes. It really was.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Dean turns on his side to look at Cas and puts his hand on his stomach. That he can do that, just feel any part of Castiel whenever he wants, it’s amazing. “Cas… “ he hesitates. Decides against it. “Do you sleep?”

Cas narrows his eyes. “You know I don’t.”

“Yeah, but a while ago, when you- laid with me, I woke up and you were… not conscious.”

“Oh, yes. I can… it’s like meditation. I’ve found it useful for when I want to- not sleep. I retreat into my mind, think.” He touches Dean’s face lightly. “It means I can do things like this. I can stay with you.”

Dean’s jealous of how unembarrassed Cas always is. Usually is. Because just hearing Cas say something so sweet is embarrassing for him, because it makes him feel important and confused because Cas thinks he’s important. Then he remembers what Sam said: ‘If Cas can feel that kind of stuff, he feels them for you.’ 

“Thank you.” he says quietly. “Thank you for staying with me.”


	9. sam reads dean like a drug store paperback

Dean wakes up with one hand looped around Cas’s waist and the other holding his regular gun under the pillow. At this point, it’s a natural instinct more than any paranoia. Or maybe his natural instinct is paranoia.

Dean gets dressed, well, he puts on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. He figures he could wake Cas up out of his trance or whatever, but he doesn’t want to tackle that quite yet. The morning after has never been his strong suit. He slips out instead and goes to the kitchen for coffee. Sam’s sitting in the library like most mornings, and he could sneak by unnoticed, but he doesn’t. Instead he takes his coffee to him and sits in a chair. “Hey Sammy,”

Sam looks up. “You’re up early.” Dean looks at the clock and shrugs. Yeah, he is.

“Didn’t mean to, just… woke up.” 

Sam nods slightly, studying him. “Something happen?” 

Dean frowns into his coffee. “Not sure.” It’s true, he’s not sure. I mean, he and Cas for sure had sex, in a real bed, really naked this time. But more than that, he’s got more of a handle on whatever he’s feeling about Cas.

“Cas?”

Dean huffs. Since when did he get to be such an open book? “Yeah.”

Sam furrows his eyebrows. Dean usually has two settings: can’t shut up and aggressively quiet. This seems like neither. “Dean, where is he?” he really hopes this isn’t Dean pouting or pining or whatever, because he can’t deal with that. Dean just takes a sip of coffee, still staring down at it instead of Sam. 

“Still in bed.”

Sam raises his eyebrows. “Is this another, uh, sleepover situation? Like that time a couple-” Dean shakes his head. “So it’s a… Dean, you’re gonna have to use your words here.”

“Did I say I wanted to talk about it?” he finally looks up and sighs. He’s being a dick again. Sam has been patient as hell with his emotionally stunted ass, and that means he gets to know the updates. “I think it’s something. Like, something good.” Saying it out loud makes his heart beat faster, but he’s not sure whether it’s from fear or.. Whatever.

Sam smiles at him. “Dean, that’s great, I’m really happy for you.” A hunch jumps into his head though, from years of watching Dean be a dumbass. “You did… talk about it, right?” Dean looks at him like a guilty little kid. “Dean. He deserves to know.”

“It’s not like-”

“After everything you guys have been through, he deserves to know.” Sam reaches out and grabs his coffee cup from him. “Go fucking tell him, bitch.”

“That’s my line, jerk.” he takes a couple steps toward the hall. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Oh, you’ll think of something eloquent as always.” Sam says sarcastically. Dean flips him off and heads back to his room.


	10. dean pours his heart out and spills a little

Dean sits cross-legged in his bed and puts a hand on Cas’s cheek. “Hey buddy, come back to earth, will ya?” Cas opens his eyes instantly and Dean jumps. “Yeah, that’s not creepy at all.” 

Cas props himself up on his elbows. “My apologies, I’m not exactly used to this… feigning sleep.” 

“Yeah, whatever, it’s… it’s fine.”

“Are you okay?” 

Dean blinks and resets. Dick. Stop being one. “Yeah, yeah. I just, uh, can we talk?” He’s never said that in his life. He feels like he’s about to tell Cas there’s a bun in his oven. Jesus Christ, head in the game Winchester.

“We are talking.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.” 

Cas sits up fully. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?” Unease washes over him. From every media he’s consumed, ‘Can we talk’ are bad words, usually followed by the ending of a relationship. For their situation, that would mean this is Dean telling him that they have to stop doing all the things Dean’s told him are ‘weird.’ Maybe last night went too far. 

“I… uh. So you know, hm, this,” he motions between them. “You know it’s not really… normal.” Cas nods. Dean looks at him and waits, then sighs. Apparently Cas isn’t gonna help him with this. “I mean, usually the kinda stuff we’ve been doing…” Wow, Sam really wasn’t wrong about the eloquence jab. 

“Dean, if it makes you uncomfortable, then-”

“No, no, it doesn’t make me-” He rubs the back of his neck. He’s just gonna say it, screw the ‘right way,’ that’s obviously not gonna happen. “So we’ve been messing around. Which, for humans, usually only happens in a few cases. One, is one night stands, just sex for sex’s sake. The other is in, uh, you know, relationships.” he scratches his head. “Not friends. I mean, there are friends with benefits, but that’s kinda-” not what he wants. Because that makes it sound so… impersonal. 

Cas stays stock still. He’s waiting for Dean to tell him what this means for them.

“Cas, you’re my best friend. I know I can be kinda shit about sayin’ that kinda thing, but it’s true. We’ve always had each other’s backs. And you, uh… you mean a lot to me.” God he’s rambling. He’d take the apocalypse any day. 

“Dean, what are you trying to say?” All of the things he’s saying are good things, but the pained way he’s saying them makes Cas nervous. 

“Tryin’ to figure that out.” he looks down and back up again. “I don’t have the right words here, buddy. I’m just trying to say… you’re my best friend, hell, you’re like family. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” Too strong too strong, he’s coming on way too strong. “Fuck, I don’t know. You’re my friend and I like messing around with you and I’m still trying to figure it out, but I like you in a way that’s- different than that. And I don’t know what that means and I don’t know what that makes this, but I want… it. Whatever weird crap we’ve got going on, I like it.”

Cas looks thoughtful and confused and that’s about it. Which makes Dean antsy as hell, but he just sits and sweats it out. Literally, he can feel himself sweating. “So you’re saying… you don’t want to change things?” 

Dean makes a face. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“I like things as they are as well.” Cas says it like Dean’s speaking gibberish. Dean goes pink. “I don’t understand the problem.” 

Dean’s completely lost it. “I’m telling you I like you. In a friend way and in a-” he throws up his hands. “In a freaking love kinda way, Cas.” Please get it, please. 

Cas is staring in a different kind of way. He gets it. Dean is saying he has romantic feelings for him. That’s the most human thing he’s ever heard, of course it’s from Dean. Dean’s the most human person he’s ever met. He also knows how hard to say this must have been for Dean. He has to choose his next words very carefully. “Dean, I am unsure how exactly angels’ emotions mirror humans, but… the only thing I’ve ever been sure of, since the day I rescued you from hell, was how I feel about you. That has never changed.” Dean looks scared. He hopes he’s not messing this up. “I don’t know where our bond lies among the human boundaries of relationships, but I know that it is unique to you and I.”

Dean swallows. Cas touches his arm lightly to get his attention. He looks at him for a long moment without saying anything. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.” He gives Cas a hesitant smile. 

Cas leans in and kisses him. Dean kisses him back then pulls away. “I’m starving.” he decides, and he claps Cas on the shoulder. “Second drawer’s shirts, third one’s pants,” He jumps out of bed and heads toward the door. “I’m makin’ bacon!”

And that was that. Chick flick moment over.


	11. sam's gonna have fun with this

All Sam gets is a happily shocked expression when Dean passes him. “Makin’ bacon!”

He laughs and gets up to follow him into the kitchen. “I still don’t eat it, but, good for you?” 

Dean pulls a package out of the fridge. “I’m thinking… a pound.” 

“For yourself?” Sam looks around. “Is this a good binge eating or a bad one?” 

Dean grins at his subtle ask. “We’re the same. We’re what we always have been. Apparently.” He tilts his head. “Little more action, maybe, but… live and let live?” 

Sam pulls a face. “So I’m not gonna have to deal with you guys having weird little married couple fights?”

“More than usual?” they say it both at once, then look at each other. 

“Okay then.” Sam grins. “Keep the staring to a minimum, though, it still weirds me out.”

Dean flips him off. “Eat me, asshole,” Sam opens his mouth to say something and Dean points at him with a glare. “So help me god if you make an ass eating joke right now,”

Sam lights up. “So I can make one later? Like when Cas walks in-” Cas walks in and Dean shakes his head at Sam with that wide-eyed sibling stare that promises hell to pay if he opens his mouth. “Cas! Awesome to see you, buddy! Do you want bacon for breakfast or would you rather-”

“Sam!” Dean leaps over the table and grabs Sam in a headlock before he can make another sound. 

Sam laughs, unaffected. He slips out of Dean’s arms easily and snatches his coffee off the table. He’s walking backwards out the door by the time he says “Third wheel buys me sex joke priveleges and everybody knows it. Eat up, you guys, I’m sure you worked up quite the appetite.” Dean swears he can hear his maniacal giggle all the way from the library. “This is gonna be fun.”


End file.
